


The Green-Eyed Monster

by Requin



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requin/pseuds/Requin
Summary: Serena doesn't deal well with competition.





	The Green-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Jess, who came up with the idea!

Serena walks to her car, out of sorts and irritated. The conversation in the office had…not gone well. She replays the day in her head, the awkwardness in the lift, the jitters in her stomach, the blush creeping up her neck every time Bernie comes into view, and how her mouth does not cooperate, makes her say things badly. She is scared, terrified, of how she feels, of what that kiss unleashed, but there was such hope, as well. And Bernie, her ever noble Major, and in her mind she sees her, glorious in that white shirt, all soft eyes, taking the high road, sacrificing what could have been for her sake. 

She gets into her car and sits there for a minute, not trusting her brain to function just yet. She should have said something. She clears her throat, feels her eyes burning. Bernie had got it wrong. They were suited for each other. So what if they had baggage? Two divorces and a lifetime of heterosexuality don’t seem like much in the face how of deeply she cares for Bernie. She wants a chance. They deserve a chance. She starts the car, feels a little better. Tomorrow, she’ll take Bernie aside and explain. 

Except, the following day, they are in theatre from the start of their shift to the end. They cross each other and don’t get a chance to say more than hello. There is never a good moment. Serena waits, stomach churning. 

The whole week she dithers. She thinks she can do it, she almost blurts it out when they’re sitting in the office doing paperwork, but then she reminds herself of the finality in Bernie’s voice. She loses her resolve. 

After a weekend of sleepless nights and general irritability, Serena waltzes through the ward and stops when she sees Bernie in deep conversation with Dr Copeland. Bernie looks a little agitated, her eyes swirling around the room as if she’s scared someone will hear them. As she approaches them, all she hears is Dominic saying “Well, it can’t hurt” before he sees her and shuts up. Bernie rolls her eyes and shoos him away, an uneasy smile on her lips. Something is up, and Serena has a feeling she won’t like it. 

“What’s all this about, then?” She asks as they both enter the office. 

Bernie looks shifty. “Nothing, nothing” 

“Come on, what did he want?” And Serena puts a bit of steel in her voice. 

Bernie looks up from underneath her fringe, her hands rubbing together. 

“He wants to set me up. On a date.” 

Serena’s heart stops. She’s pretty sure the air has left the room. Bernie looks everywhere but at her. 

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. The words won’t come out. The little speech she’d prepared over the last few days is gone. She tries not to let show how miserable she is, but that’s not a problem because Bernie is still very much not looking at her. 

“I said yes.” Bernie whispers, entranced by the filing cabinet to her right. 

Serena closes her eyes. There’s a buzzing sound in her ears, and the words hurt like a punch. Bernie clears her throat and leaves the office without another word. 

Serena gets home, says hi to Jason, tells him she has a headache and is going straight to bed. She doesn’t think he believes her, though, especially when she grabs a bottle of wine and starts sobbing before she opens her bedroom door. 

She’s blown it. Of course she has. She always ruins things, wants too much, all the time. Her mother warned her when she she was younger, that she was too loud and brash and demanding. And now Bernie’s run off because she is too much. She has too much baggage, too much history. Why would someone like Bernie, who was finally free after decades of hiding who she truly is, want to take on a washed up, boring, silly and terrified woman like her? 

Serena cries and cries, her make up running down her cheeks. She feels like she’s missed out on something wonderful because she is a coward. She drinks the whole bottle in record time and sobs herself to a fitful sleep. 

The next few days are stilted. The whole ward is tense. Bernie is acting like a kicked puppy, looking at her with doleful eyes across the desk and in theatre. Serena bristles. She might be heartbroken and old and tired, but no one looks at her with pity. She snarls at the F1s and they flee like a flock of frightened birds. She ignores Bernie the best she can, knowing she is ridiculous and has no right, but it hurts. It hurts that Bernie has just agreed to go on a date only days after their kiss. It solidifies the thought that it hadn’t meant anything to her, that Serena, yet again, had wanted too much, been too much, felt too much. 

She leaves the hospital without saying good bye to anyone, let alone Bernie. Jason finds her sitting at the kitchen table in front of a half empty bottle of wine, brooding. 

“Auntie Serena, are you ok? Your wine consumption has increased by 30% this week,” he asks when he enters the room. 

“I don’t want a lecture, Jason. I’ve had a long day,” she says, her tone a warning. 

But Jason doesn’t do warnings. 

“You should call Dr Bernie, then. She always makes you smile.” 

Serena closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. 

“Not tonight.” 

“Why not?” 

Serena bites the inside of her cheek, two seconds away from crying. 

“We’ve had a bit of a falling out, dear, and…I just want to be alone right now.” 

“Is it because she has a date with Dr Dom’s old professor?” 

Serena’s head snaps back up so hard she fears she has whiplash. 

“Who told you that?” Her voice is harsh and wet. 

Jason is unfazed. He pours himself a glass of his preferred lemonade, the non-sugar one, and Serena refrains from shaking him. 

“I heard Dr Dom talk about it when I went up to Keller to get a patient. He said he had set up Dr Bernie on a date, and he said she didn’t want to at first, but couldn’t tell him why, and so then he insisted, and then she said yes.” 

Jason sits in front of Serena, eyes wide with innocence, oblivious to the storm brewing in Serena’s heart. So then, a date. A real date. With a professor. She is probably very intelligent and beautiful, and witty, and very gay, and doesn’t have any hang ups about anything. Serena nods, drinks her wine, tries not to cry. 

“My mum used to say that sometimes people get jealous when their friends have dates. Like when Budgie goes on a date with a woman and Dr Raf gets very jealous?”

Serena sputters in her wine, her eyes wide. She wonders what Jason knows. She doesn’t want to know. 

“No, no, Bernie dating is fine. More than fine. She’s single and…”

“But you’re worried she won’t spend as much time with you?”

Serena stills and sighs. She’s not ready to open up about her love life, or lack of, to her nephew. There are limits. 

“I don’t know, Jason. Maybe. I’m going to bed.” 

She stands up and flees to the comfort of her bedroom. She realises she’s brought the wine in with her, so she drinks it and passes out more than falls asleep, confusing images of Bernie floating around her mind. 

Serena desperately wants to ask Bernie about her date, about the when and who. The words burn the tip of her tongue, and she carries a weight in her stomach all throughout the week. Bernie is skittish, won’t look at her in the eye. Their conversations are strained, in fact all their interactions are awkward, and she can see how confused the staff is. Not two weeks ago they had been the best of friends, practically joined at the hip, and now they mumble and avoid each other. Serena feels like she has lost her best friend, and she can’t even talk to anyone about the burning pit of jealousy she finds herself in, because normally she would open up to Bernie. 

Finally, after a tricky surgery, she hears from Morven, who heard it from Dr Copeland, that Bernie is going on her date that very night, and she almost tears to shreds the file she’s holding. She’s in the worst mood for the rest of her shift, especially when Morven wishes Bernie the best of luck when she leaves. Bernie hunches her shoulders, blinks like she always does when she’s nervous, and watches Morven go through the doors. 

“So, um, where are you going, then?” Serena finally asks when they’re in the office alone. 

Bernie looks up, obviously surprised. It’s the first time in days that they’ve talked about anything but work. 

“Oh, uh, a pub. Not too far. For drinks,” Bernie mumbles awkwardly. 

Serena feels her hands ball into fists and breathes in and lays them carefully on the desk in front of her. 

“Right,” she says, when Bernie doesn’t offer more information. “I hope you have a good time.” She means to say it kindly, to rise above it all, but the tone is all wrong and Bernie’s eyes widen at the bitterness there. 

Serena grabs her coat and leaves without looking back, her heart beating fast and her face red with anger and sadness and a thousand emotions she can’t process. 

All night long she stares at the ceiling in bed, her mind whirling with what could be happening across town. Did Bernie like her date? Were they laughing? Were they getting along and stealing touches across the table, their knees pressed together, their faces flushed with wine? Serena can’t get comfortable, her skin is itchy and she has a headache from the wine she’s been drinking ever since she got home. Would the professor kiss Bernie good night? Serena puts her hands on her face, her breathing shallow, her eyes teary. Would they…would they do more than kiss? 

Serena kicks the duvet off the bed, turns the light back on, her mind reeling. She takes off her pyjamas, gets dressed again, not really thinking anything but that she needs to know. She creeps down the stairs, mindful of Jason sleeping, grabs her car keys, and vanishes into the night. 

It’s only when she parks in front of Bernie’s building that she realises how crazy she’s being. She has never done anything like this. Her heart is pounding. It’s gone past eleven, and it’s not like she knows when Bernie is going to get home. She shouldn’t have driven, knows that she’s had too much wine. She feels stupid. The road is quiet, so at least it’s peaceful. She’s about to call the whole thing off and forget about it all, when she hears footsteps in the distance. Her heart jumps. She looks in the rear view mirror and sees two people walking together. Serena panics and ducks, and then peers out the window, hoping the darkness will cover her foolishness. She would die if Bernie saw her, and it is Bernie walking past, next to a tall brunette. They stop a little way away by the front door of Bernie’s building, and Serena’s heart sinks when she sees that they are both smiling. The brunette leans forward slowly for a kiss, and Serena wants to throw up. She closes her eyes and looks away, starts the car without caring who sees or hears, and drives home. 

The next day Serena wakes up with a raging hangover, and for the first time in a very long time, she doesn’t want to go to work. She thinks about calling in sick, anything to avoid facing Bernie in her post date glow. But she is a good worker, knows the rules, and so she gets up to face the music. 

When she gets to the ward, Dr Copeland is there with a wide smile. He says hello cheerfully, probably because his matchmaking was so successful. Serena curses him with the heat of a thousand suns. Bernie is at her computer, looking very professional and not like someone who had a hot date, but Serena knows better and decides to hide in theatre all day. She can’t bear it. She can’t. 

At Albie’s that evening, they all sit together like a happy family, and Serena has to bite her tongue when Morven asks Bernie about her evening with a smile and raised eyebrow. Bernie looks extremely uncomfortable and evades all the questions, glances at Serena who ignores her royally. Serena drinks more than she should, gets rounds in, stays longer than she’d anticipated. She can feel Bernie watching her, but keeps her attention firmly on Raf and Fletch. After one last glass of wine, she stands up on wobbly legs, decides she’s had enough and says her good byes, pointedly not looking at Bernie. The fresh air is invigorating, so she walks. 

She’s not really thinking while she walks. The wind is nice on her face, and the streets are quiet at this late hour. Her house isn’t far. She doesn’t realise she’s being followed until Bernie is right next to her, and she jumps a little, startled. 

“Oh, what do you want?” She asks harshly. 

Bernie has her hands in her coat pockets and she looks at her sideways. 

“I just want to make sure you get home safe,” Bernie whispers. 

Serena does an epic eye roll and huffs, annoyed. What, so she can’t even get nice and drunk in peace? 

“And what do you care?” She asks pretty viciously, her heart hurting. 

Bernie stays silent for a moment and they shuffle along. 

“You’re my best friend, Serena,” she says finally. 

Serena feels her stomach churning and she inhales sharply. 

“Some friend you are,” she replies. 

She can see that the barb landed. Bernie’s little gasp is enough, and there is hurt in her dark eyes. Serena can’t bring herself to care after all the wine and the weeks of heartache. 

“Oh, yes, Major. You’ve been a real treat recently,” she continues with a cold laugh, her coat billowing in the wind, her cheeks red. 

“Look, I don’t know what…” Bernie starts to say, but Serena is having none of it. She suddenly stops walking, furious, and rounds up on Bernie, who takes a step back, her eyes wide under her fringe. 

“Seriously, Bernie? You don’t know? Imagine how I feel right now,” she says loudly, getting closer and closer to Bernie until the other woman’s back hits a wall and Serena gets in her personal space without missing a beat. 

Serena can feel the anger coursing in her veins. How dare she? Can she really be this clueless? Did she not feel what Serena had felt during their kiss? 

“You kissed me. You did. And then…then you decide I’m too…and then this woman!” She says, hurt pouring out, her eyes tearing up, her hands shaking. 

Bernie looks at her with her mouth open and it’s only when she looks down that she realises Bernie has put her hands on her shoulders. Serena shrugs her off and pushes her away, Bernie’s shoulders hitting the wall. 

“Serena…” She whispers, her voice a little broken. 

Serena launches herself into Bernie and kisses her, hard. Her lips are warm and there’s only a beat before she kisses back, and suddenly it’s all tongues and heat and Serena feels her knees weaken. She pushes Bernie against the wall and their bodies are flushed together and she puts her hands in Bernie’s hair, tugging this way and that, her brain on fire. Bernie feels so good. Better than she’d imagined in her feverish dreams the past few nights. She wrenches her lips away, panting, her lungs ready to burst, and Bernie puts a hand on her waist and another behind her neck, and draws her back in, her mouth insistent. Serena slips a thigh between Bernie’s legs and Bernie gasps and flips them around effortlessly, Serena moaning at the strength in her arms and then moaning again at the sensation of being pinned against the wall with the hot length of Bernie’s body pressed into hers. 

Serena loses track of time, consumed by how Bernie tastes and the sounds she makes. She can’t stop kissing her and touching her, can’t believe that Bernie is really here, in her arms and looking at her with such want that she feels it all the way between her legs. A car passes them by loudly and it startles them and they draw apart, breathless. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Serena gasps, her face buried in Bernie’s neck. 

She can’t think. She’s two seconds away from coming spectacularly against Bernie’s thigh and has never known this level of urgency. Bernie looks like she feels, her hair and eyes wild. 

“Come home with me,” Serena says, her hands sneaking into Bernie’s coat. 

Bernie lets out a shaky sigh. Serena notes her hands are trembling. 

“Are…are you sure, Serena?” She whispers. 

Serena grabs her forcefully, kisses her, moans in her mouth. She only lets her go when she feels her legs give out. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she says simply, panting against Bernie’s lips. 

Bernie closes her eyes, visibly in the hope of regaining some composure. She nods, and Serena feels her heart swell. 

“I’m five minutes away,” she says, and they start walking on shaky legs. 

They make a few stops along the way, looking at each other with burning eyes, and Bernie sucks on her neck against a tree, rolls a nipple between her long fingers as they kiss under a bus stop. Serena mewls and arches her back, is about to throw caution to the wind and just let got, when they reach her house. 

She’s thankful Jason is away for the weekend, because they wreck the house when they come in. Bernie slams her against the wall of the staircase and two picture frames fall down, Serena knocks out a light fixture when Bernie takes off her top, and she’s pretty sure her console table is beyond repair after Bernie hoists her on top of it and starts thumbing her breasts. They hear a crack, but then they tumble into the bedroom and all is forgotten. 

The bedroom is dark but there is enough light to see. Bernie is like a whirlwind and they fall onto the bed, hands eager to get rid of all their clothing. Serena is so ready she wants to cry. She grabs Bernie’s hand and shoves it in her underwear, arches her back and spreads her legs. She hears a breathless “God” and Bernie covers her with her body, her fingers caressing and spreading the wet they find. Serena is pretty sure she’s hyperventilating, her breathing is just great gasps now, and she hangs onto Bernie for dear life, matches her thrust for thrust. She bites her lip when she comes, a sharp stab of pleasure making her shake, and she doesn’t recognise the scream that tears her body apart. 

She doesn’t remember much after that, and when she comes to, Bernie is pressed against her at her side, peppering her face with kisses and murmuring sweet nonsense in her ear. She feels right, there are no other words. Weeks and weeks of torment and then this sheer relief. It’s so amazing she starts laughing.   
Bernie looks up, alarmed, but Serena kisses her, her tongue swiping her bottom lip, and she moans softly. 

“Serena, god, Serena, you…you are so beautiful.” Bernie lets out between hot, open mouthed kisses. 

Serena smiles and licks her neck, enjoying the whimpers coming out of Bernie’s mouth. She looks glorious in her bed, all limbs and pale skin and scorching looks. She bends down and sucks on a collarbone, leaving a mark. Bernie makes a move to touch her but Serena takes her hands and pins them above her head. 

“This ok?” She asks softly. 

Bernie nods frantically, her chest heaving. Serena smiles, loving the way she has come undone so quickly. She touches a small and soft breast, watches Bernie’s face as she touches her, learning what she likes. Serena takes her time, she slides her palm up and down Bernie’s sides, tries to touch her everywhere, catalogues all the places that make Bernie sigh and twitch, the back of her knees, the soft skin of her hips, the inside of her pale thighs. 

Bernie is like an atlas centuries ago, everything is yet to be discovered and Serena is a fearless explorer that is desperate to visit every nook and cranny. Bernie moans and moans, breathes out her name with such need and love that Serena blushes and gets turned on again. She slips a hand between Bernie’s legs and closes her eyes at how wet she is. Bernie lifts her hips, desperate for contact, and Serena strokes her firmly, the flat of her hand hard and she slides two fingers in, gasping at how easy it is, at how silky and soft Bernie is. Bernie slams her head backward and cries out, and it doesn’t take long for her to scream and shake under Serena’s greedy eyes. She loves it, wants to do it again and again, wants Bernie to come and come under her, forever. 

They cling together in the middle of the bed, hunger sated for now, breathing still a little shaky. Serena maps Bernie’s face with her fingers. 

“I love you,” she says quietly, brave in the darkness. 

She hears Bernie inhale. 

“Oh, Serena, I am so, so in love you,” Bernie says with a hitch in her voice. 

Serena lets the words calm her heated and jealous brain, revels in them, feels them warm her chest. She smiles. 

“So, the, uh, elephant in the room. The professor?” Serena asks, because she has to know now. 

Bernie shift against her, and Serena can feel the heat of the blush on her chest. 

“Oh, no, she, um, tried to kiss me, but I said no. I only met her to get Dominic off my back. She was nice, but she wasn’t you,” she says. 

Serena smiles brilliantly, the tight coil in her chest unravelling. She is at peace. Bernie snuggles in her neck and Serena can feel her smile against her skin. 

“I guess I was pretty stupid, with the whole ‘let’s forget about it’ thing, uh? I’m sorry, Serena. I’ve been such an idiot,” Bernie says quietly but surely. 

Serena forgives her in an instant, because this is new to both of them. It’s not like Bernie has countless relationships under her belt, or knows better than she does how to handle falling in love with her best friend. She caresses Bernie’s bare shoulder, smiles when Bernie shivers. They’ll make it work. 

Together.


End file.
